


Lore

by SabrinaT



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, but this what I got, here it be babes, maybe Michael would be alright in an AU, quarantine got me like, y'all, y'all deserve better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabrinaT/pseuds/SabrinaT
Summary: That village had it all, had everything to be perfect. Henry himself had everything he could want: a roof over his head, food on the table, a good head on his shoulders. What he was lacking, however, was the girl he wanted, and who he thought he'd lost when he decided to go back to Birmingham, to take the crown he was always supposed to wear.
Relationships: Michael Gray/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

If anything, mrs. Johnson was kind. She was kind to those around her, she was kind to her parish members, and she was kind to her child. Damn, she was even kind to those kids from that family who lived in the outskirts of the village, and they had nothing. Nothing meant absolutely nothing: no house, no food, and no running water. For Rosemary Johnson, it wasn't a deterrent that those parents never gave their children an education, and let them all just run around, with no shoes on, screaming, fighting, and taking fruit from the trees around other people's properties. When mrs. Johnson went around to give them some hand-me-downs or some food for Christmas, they all yelled at her, chased after her, and took the food as soon as they could, fighting over it savagely, and often leaving the younger siblings with nothing. The parents, the biggest and strongest, always kept the best parts for themselves. 

"Mrs. Clearwater, please, leave something for your children..." Rosemary would beg, before promptly giving up when shot a look of pure brutality. Soon after her fifth visit to those people, she no longer felt safe around their... territory, and almost gave up on them. The children would be welcome to come to schoo, or enter the foster programme, to have a good family and a good house to grow up in. The parents hadn't even entertained that option, they probably hadn't even heard a thing, or hadn't understood it. As for their children, none of them seemed very impressed by the offer, their eyes empty and hollow, clearly devoid of any feeling other than the basic instincts of survival. 

There was one child who seemed to pay a little more attention than the others. The gender of said child was undetermined, but it looked like it could be a girl, of no more than ten years of age. She was probably the smallest, hence being the most malnurished of the hungry bunch. Her eyes had this strange shape, like a cat's, and had this distinct gray hue to them, something like a stormy cloud. She was the one who had wobbled after mr. Johnson, trying to clean her dirty hands on her even filthier dress, attempting to get her attention. Thankfully, the kind woman noticed her before getting too far, and turned to her with a sweet smile. 

"Hi there, sweetheart. Do you need anything?" Rosemary asked, only to be met with utter and complete confusion, as if her words had been spoken in a language which wasn't English. "Are you hurt? Hungry?"

The small child shook her head, from one side to the other, not denying those affirmations, but like someone trying to get water out of their ears after a day at the beach. Then, she looked down at the ground, and bit her lip, squinting her eyes, and gesturing to herself. Mrs. Johnson, who loved children, wasn't one to judge, but this poor child seemed like a good fit for a mental institution, as harsh as that seemed. 

"What's your name?" the lady asked, hoping the kids at least had been given something as simple as a name, and hoping that this baby would be able to answer that simple question. But no, the kid wasn't, she looked positively bewildered to be addressed with such manners, and her weirdly-shaped eyes were focused on mrs. Johnson's mouth, not her eyes, or anywhere else. "Do you have a name?"

Apparently, this simpler way of phrasing the question triggered some sort of understanding, the child's eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree, and her head nodding happily, a bright smile on her lips. At the same time, she pointed to herself repeatedly, looking around to the ground, and finally taking a daisy from the roots of a nearby tree, and gifting it to mrs. Johnson, still pointing it at herself. 

"Your name is Daisy? And you can't speak?" Rosemary asked, making sure to speak slowly, moving her lips as much as possible, given that it had worked before. The child's lips were still solely focused on her mouth, so it seemed to be a good strategy. Daisy, which was indeed her name, nodded, before touching her mouth and shaking her head, doing the same with both her ears. "Ah, so you can't speak, and you can't hear. I'm sorry about that"

Daisy shrugged, hoping sincerely she had gotten her message across. The next part was a bit harder: how would she tell this woman, without being able to hear, speak, or write, that she would like to go away from where she was? Maybe if she followed the nice woman, she would get the message? Or maybe she could find a way to mimic her intentions?

"What do you need?" mrs. Johnson asked, quickly realising the kid had no idea of what she had just said. Instead, she decided on a different method of communication: if the child made herself understood with mimic, she would too. Showing her an apple was met with hungry eyes, but with a shake of her head; same with the gesture for drinking something. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with the small one, she didn't seem hurt. So mrs. Johnson decided to take a step back, and then another, to see what the reaction would be. Sure enough, the child followed her, and the more Rosemary Johnson walked, the more Daisy Clearwater followed, until they were on the main road. 

"Away from them? From your family?" mrs. Johnson asked, slow and steady, just like before. Through what seemed like teary eyes, the little girl nodded yes, and even tried to say it, but nothing came out. "With me. With me, with my family" 

And although Daisy couldn't really accept that offer verbally, she understood enough to say yes in her own way, hugging mrs. Johnson's legs and sobbing silently into her dress. 

* * *

Upon further inspection, and after about three baths, the child revealed herself to be younger than ten, and was maybe eight. Daisy herself probably didn't know it either, but it wasn't important. What was, however, was the doctor's visit, and his conclusion: the poor kid, whatever her age, was deaf, and there was something with her vocal chords that made it impossible for her to speak as well. Physically, the dirt had been covering bruises, scars, burn marks, and a whole bunch of other forms of abuse. Her hair wasn't mud brown, but rather a beautiful tone of dark blonde, her grey eyes standing out from a pale, sickly skin tone. 

"I reckon the child just needs a few good meals, and a good night of sleep, on a proper bed. She'll be fine in a few days, and we'll start discussing what we can do for her once she is" the doctor dictated, putting away his things and taking one last look at the child, who was looking out the window, apparently inspecting the backyard of the house she was in as if there was a bomb threat. 

"Ah alright, maybe some bone broth? And some vegetables" mrs. Johnson asserted, catching her adoptive son making a disgusted face at the mention of bone broth and vegetables. He didn't seem too bothered by the presence of another kid, but he absolutely hated broth of any kind. 

"Maybe some cake?" Henry, the boy, hopefully asked. He always felt better when he had cake, and surely the little girl felt the same. She was so small she probably never had cake, and Henry felt bad for her. 

"Eh, why not? Broth, and then chocolate cake" Rosemary agreed, seeing the doctor to the door, and then coming back to the kitchen. It seemed like she had two children now, both of them adopted, rescued from dire situations. Henry had arrived seven years earlier, taken from a mother who made illegal alcoholic beverages, but he didn't seem too traumatized by his former life. In fact, he was thriving, doing well at school, and aiding his mother with the parish. Daisy would do as well as he was, she surely would, even without being able to hear or speak. 

"You hear that? We're getting cake" Henry said to Daisy, who was still fully focused on the outside, her back turned to him. None the wiser to her situation, he became irritated when she didn't reply, and walked up to her, taking her by the arm to make her turn and face him. "I'm talking to you" 

"Henry! She can't hear you, it's not her fault!" Mrs. Johnson shouted, causing her son to back off, embarrassed by his own actions. "She's deaf, she can only read your lips" 

"Ah, I didn't know that. I'm sorry, little girl" Henry said, politely extending his hand to her. As for Daisy, she managed to pick up on the apology, but wasn't sure if she had understood him right. She wasn't a little girl, she was a normal person. It wasn't her idea to make him so big and burly, was it? Maybe she was little, but only when compared to boys who were built like brick walls. "I'm Henry"

She tilted her head to the side, and softly nodded, furrowing her brow. Deciding to give it a try, she mouthed her own name several times, as slowly as she could, to see if he was able to do what she did, and decode that silent language. He seemed completely lost, which didn't bode well for future communication between the two of them. 

"Her name's Daisy, I think that's what she's trying to say" mrs. Johnson helped, making the proverbial lightbulb go off on her son's head. "And judging from her expression, I don't think she likes being called little girl"

"Isn't that what she is, though? Look, she's so small. Bet I'd break her if I sat on her" Henry joked, making sure that Daisy could see his mouth as he said it. The target didn't understand it all, but understood enough to think he was threatening to break her, which caused her to run and hide under the first table she found. Mrs. Johnson tried very hard not to laugh, and to be stern enough to scold her son, which didn't result on much: Daisy didn't want to come out from under the table, and only the smell of chocolate cake convinced her to share a room and a meal with the boy she was scared of. 


	2. Chapter 2

Soon after, the story of Rosemary Johnson's kindness went around the village. Many residents even did as much as visit the adopted girl, to see what good old Rosemary had done now. One adopted child was one thing, especially since Henry had come from the church; but one of the Clearwater kids? That was a social experiment they could not support, but would gladly follow with avid attention. But not everything was bad: kindness also permeated through the community, and several donations, tips and advice arrived to the Johnson household. The most important piece of information was the one about a school, up in the Highlands of Scotland, which accepted children with disabilities, and helped them become employable. It was a boarding school, an immersive experience, which was pretty well known in the circles of well-to-do families who had children with learning difficulties, physically, or mentally impaired. To Daisy, it sounded really nice: she had started going to school, but she didn't like that everyone seemed to be doing better than her, because she simply could not aprehend what the teacher was saying, or answer a question when called upon. In a school for people like her, she would be able to make friends, learn skills, and maybe feel normal, instead of being mocked for not being able to listen or talk. 

"Would you like to go? The church and a few benefactors managed to get you a spot there, with a full scholarship. What do you think, sweetie?" mrs. Johnson asked, handing Daisy a brochure with pictures of the school. She was doing well with reading, and could make out most of the information, but it was the pictures that sold her on the idea, as well as the hope of finding people she could communicate easily with. 

"I think she likes it. You like it, Daisy? Are you sure you want to go?" mr. Johnson asked, his kind eyes seeing the excitement in her grey ones. She'd been with them almost a year, and didn't look one bit like the girl his wife had brought home: her cheeks were rosy, her hair was shiny, and she wasn't perpetually dirty or famished anymore. 

As a response, Daisy nodded several times, not knowing how well to say she would adore to go to school, to that school in particular. With her growing caligraphy skills, she took a pen and paper, and wrote a small message for her adoptive parents: 

_Yes, please. I will miss you._

"We will miss you too, but we'll go visit" mrs. Johnson promised, as her husband nodded in agreement. They would really miss having her calm presence around, her silent yet powerful being in a house where Henry filled every bit of space with his demanding personality. Daisy counteracted that in many ways, and her absence would be very much felt. But it was obvious how important a good education would be for her, and how much it meant to have an education dedicated to her special circumstances. 

In keeping with the promise, Daisy roamed north, to the Scottish Highlands, to Margaret de Castello Academy, named after the patron of disabled persons. It was a big, old building, with spacious hallways and airy common rooms. There were gyms, a pool, and several doctors on site, to aid with any kind of disability. The first thing Daisy was called to do was a health check-up, where it was declared she was in good health, despite of her inability to hear or speak. She had gained a healthy amount of weight since being rescued from her dire living situations, and could write pretty well. Having a clean bill of health meant she could be assigned a bedroom, which she would be sharing with three other girls: Margie, Beatrice, and Lottie. Margie had no mobility below her neck, whereas Beatrice and Lottie were visually impaired. Between the four of them, they could help each other, complementing their senses and mobilities, making sure no one was left behind. 

Over the years, Daisy was able to learn, to play, to grow, almost forgetting what it was like in the small village she used to live in. The school encouraged parents to visit, instead of the students returning home for the holidays, simply to make sure the right medical attention was available at all times, and also that there wouldn't be any unnecessary homesickness. Besides, a lot of the kids were positively abandoned by their families, who paid their tuition and left them there, out of sight, out of mind. As sad as it was, the school managed to be a safe space for those in that situation, and every student, teacher, and doctor was a link in the chain, without which nothing worked as well as it could. 

But of course, time kept on passing by, and soon enough, Daisy was seventeen, and able to fend for herself in the real world, anchored by a good education, impecable manners, several letters of recommendation, and a variety of useful skills. Even better than all that, attending the academy gave her a purpose: to work with disabled people, to give them the oportunity at a safe and happy life. That was how she returned to Birmingham, several years since her departure, now a gorgeous young lady, recenty employed as a special education tutor at the newly formed Grace Shelby Foundation for children in need. 

* * *

The Grace Foundation was the shorthand the whole family used to refer to the place. Tommy was absolutely obsessed with it, as a way to make up for his sins. In truth, every single member of the Shelbies liked to have that institution under their names, to guarantee that whatever wrong they did, however filthy rich they became, a little good was coming out of it, possibly buying them a one-way ticket to heaven. It didn't quite work that way, but they could try, it wouldn't hurt. 

As for the newest member of the Shelbies, or better yet, newest member of the Grays, Michael had his work cut out for him. He was good with maths, he had done a course in accounting and all that. But theory and practice are two very different things, and balancing the books of a whole corporation, as well as a non-profit foundation, was a big ask for such an inexperienced professional as himself. More often than not, he would spend long days and boring nights at the foundation, trying to make sense of it all, trying to do his job as best as he could. There weren't even any distractions around to pass the time, only numbers and more numbers, vendors, donations, all kinds of things that were anything but interesting.

It was one of those nights that he saw a figure pass by his door, dressed in a white nightgown, clearly lost. First, Michael had to recover from the surprise and panic of seeing an unexpected person outside his door, when everyone should be fast asleep. Even worse, the person looked like a downright ghost, and he wasn't that well-versed in the supernatural to know how to deal with such a threat. But then, rationality returned, and he decided it was best to follow the poor creature, make sure she was alright, and not roaming aimlessly, trying to find her bedroom, or maybe the bathroom. 

"Hey, you alright? You need any help?" he shouted down the corridor, still able to see what seemed to be a young woman. However, she said nothing, didn't turn her head, didn't even acknowledge he was calling out for her. That meant there were only two possible conclusions: she was either playing a prank on him, or she really was a ghost, and Michael did not care for either of those options. Regardless, he quickly followed the girl, and managed to gather the guts to grab her by the arm. 

As it turned out, she really hadn't heard him, and looked about to pass out, scared out of her mind for being grabbed out of nowhere, when she thought she was alone. Even more surprising was finding herself grabbed by someone whose eyes were vaguely familiar, and whose scent reminded her of a place where she felt safe. The academy? No, she would know right away if this man went to school in Scotland. No, it was something else... 

"Are you lost?" Michael asked, speaking as loudly and clear as he could. "I'm not trying to hurt you, I just want to help you" 

Much to his surprise, she took a notepad from her pocket, and scribbled something on it, which she then showed him, as well as a name tag, that stated her name as being Daisy Clearwater, special education tutor at that very institution. On the paper, she had written that she was deaf and a mute, meaning she couldn't communicate in traditional ways, but was fluent in sign language, and good at lip reading. 

"I don't know sign lan..." Michael had started to reply, when he realised what he had read. 

_Daisy?_

"Your name's... are you... are you Daisy Clearwater? Do you know my parents, the Johnsons? Are you Daisy, the girl they... In Scotland?" he asked, seeing the same spark of understandment in her own eyes. Of course, it had to be Daisy, the Daisy he had shared a home and a family with for a year, before she left for Scotland, and Michael never bothered to make the trip with his mom to go see her. She had those grey eyes he couldn't forget, especially now that they matched his new family name. 

As for Daisy, as soon as she understood who i was that had scared her, her face relaxed a little, and she went back to writing on her notepad, their only way of communication. It wasn't ideal, she wished he knew sign language, but it would work anyways. 

"Yes, I am. You're Henry, aren't you? Why are you here?" Daisy rapidly wrote, barely believing her eyes. 

"I am, yeah, yeah... or used to be, I guess. I go by Michael now, Michael Gray. I found my birth mother, and I moved here with her. I work here, I'm an accountant for the family who owns this place" Michael informed, his eyes moving all over Daisy's face, trying to comprehend how the famished little girl he had met over a decade ago had grown into what was, simply put, the most beautiful form of human life he had ever laid eyes on. 

"They're fine, you should visit them" Daisy wrote, having visited the Johnsons the weekend prior. "I started today, I teach special education to disabled kids here" 

"That explains why I hadn't seen you around" Michael replied, not sure if he wanted to touch on the subject of his adoptive parents. He knew damn well he should visit them, but then again he had kind of abandoned them for Polly, and truth be told he was much happier with the Shelbies than he had been with the Johnsons. "What were you looking for?" 

"Bathroom" Daisy said, this time with her lips, the faintest of whispers coming from her mouth. She had trained very hard to be able to at least whisper, and could be heard if the space was completely silent, and she only needed to say a couple words. 

"I'll take you. Christ, can't believe it's you, Daisy. Really. You're... different" Michael stated, making her laugh. Even if he hadn't outright said it, she knew what he was thinking: she was no longer the abused, malnourished child she had been when they met; but then again, he wasn't the chubby kid she had met either. 


	3. Chapter 3

She wasn't his sister, it wasn't like that. There was no need to... to feel shame, or to... to confess his sins to a man of God, or to... He'd spent a year living under the same roof as her, when they were kids, when everything was innocent and without consequence. Now, all those years later, everything had a provenance, and everything provoked something, nothing existed in the aether. The true tragedy was the manner his fingertips vibrated in her presence, and the way his heart beat quicker, making the blood rush through his unwilling veins. As for his brain, it was like it didn't exist; like he didn't want to think, couldn't think, and would never think again. 

"Here you go, that's for this month" Michael, or Henry, or whatever his name was, informed, not wanting to look up, not wanting to meet her eyes. It was bad enough that her fingers brushed against his when she took the envelope, and archived it inside her handbag. 

"Thank you" Daisy whispered, smiling at the accountant, although she was almost sure he wasn't looking at her. Why was beyond her, but Daisy had somewhat gotten used to Henry not looking her in the eye. Not wanting to stir up whatever memory she woke up inside him, she let it go, learned to live with it. After all, they barely ever saw each other, apart from the quick "good morning" and "good evening" when they passed by each other in the corridors. This was the first time they had spoken at some length, and without being surrounded by people, since that strange night when she had been looking for the bathroom, but had run into the past instead. 

"Will you... will you be going to... to see them?" he asked in return, finally looking at her face. Of course, he was stupid enough to think he would see something else, but no: he still saw the same beauty he couldn't stop dreaming about. That question seemed to warrant a notepad, the very same one she always carried, or at least a copy of the same brand and model. Likewise, the pen was blue ink, cheap and generic. 

"Maybe next weekend" Daisy wrote, chewing on her lip before continuing. "Anything you want me to tell them?"

Now that was a fucked up question, one Michael did not want to answer. There were many things he wanted to tell them, but there was one in specific that would have to come out first if that conversation were to happen, and that was the reason he never wanted to see his adoptive parents again. His one-way ticket to Birmingham and to the Shelbies was his great escape, but somehow his old life, the things he refused to say out loud, followed him wherever he went. As much as Daisy reminded him of the past, she still had this way to assert herself as the champion for all the good Michael had in his former life, instead of bringing up the horror he had to survive. Maybe some day he could tell her, maybe some day he would say it out loud, and explain to her why he had to leave. 

"No, no thank you" Michael ended up saying, shaking his head and silently letting out the breath he'd been holding, without even realizing it. He even tried to give her a smile, return the kindness with which she showered everyone around her, both adults and children, rich or poor, survivors or thrivers. 

"Alright" Daisy whispered, making space for the notepad, next to the envelope with her salary. Henry didn't seem in much of a mood for chats, and she had to head to the bank to deposit her money, so idling was useless. "Bye" 

"Daisy" he ended up calling, going after her, having to tug on her sleeve to get her attention, as she had already turned her back on him. "I have my reasons for not wanting to go back. But that doesn't mean I hold any grudge against you. I don't. Im happy you went away when you did. And I'm happy that you're here now. It makes it easier. Everything" he added, slowly and clearly, forming each word as perfectly as he possibly could. She needed to understand, and she did, he could see it in her expression that she understood. And it meant everything, it meant the world that she comprehended what he meant, without more than his lackluster words, proper of an accountant who lacked the imagination to write poetry worthy of that woman's soul. 

"That's good" Daisy whispered, smiling sweetly, and gosh, that was the smile; that was the smile that could make him believe in the goodness of humanity, in better days, in nights well slept, and in bright Spring mornings, with pancakes and tea. The smile to end all smiles, the smile to kill demons and slay dragons. The smile to bring him to his knees, the smile to make him believe in God, to sing His praises, to entrust Daisy Clearwater with his secrets, with his rotten conscience, with his nightmares and dreams of children and a white picket fence. 

That could be the reason why Michael Gray didn't come to his senses until his mouth was on hers, kissing her with all the might of his considerable structure, kissing her like the world would end if he stopped. There was someone knocking on the door, trying to open it, but did it matter? Of course not, since the weight of both their bodies pressed against the structure, not allowing anyone to come in. So what if a case could be made for them to have lived as brother and sister for a few months when they were children? They hadn't seen each other since, and, as adults, the kissing was far too good. That being said nd established, it was all the more weird when Daisy pulled back. 

"Sorry, sorry" she whispered, looking down, looking everywhere, but at Michael, who was trying to understand what had gone wrong, and why she was apologising. From where he stood, all he could gather was that they'd ended up kissing, and that somehow his tongue had ended up in her mouth; needless to say, he was perfectly comfortable with all of the above, meaning that her saying "sorry" was completely unnecessary.

"Why sorry? I wanted to kiss you, I still want to kiss you" Michael was quick to correct, giving Daisy some space for her to go away if she wanted, but she didn't move a muscle. "You did nothing wrong, I think I was the one to start it" 

Out came the notepad, and Daisy busied herself with writing, then taking out the page and crumpling it, time and time again, before coming up with a text that seemed to be good enough for what she wanted to say. Holding it up for Michael to read, her eyes were blank, and her expression was imobile. 

"You look sad all the time. I don't want to take advantage of you, if you're vulnerable. And I think you are" Daisy had written, in quick and messy handwriting, which made clear the urgency she was in to get the message out. 

"Sad? Vulnerable? No, I... you know what, maybe, but you're not taking advantage of me, what are you even talking about?" Michael protested, deeply resenting how fragile she seemed to think he was. His demons were always lurking, that was true, but Michael refused to allow them to make him weak, to make him capable of being used. Besides, did Daisy really think she had it in her to use another human being? Was that what she thought of herself? "Do I look vulnerable to you? 'Cause I'll tell you right now, love, that I feel pretty fucking invincible. I feel fucking amazing. You get that, right? You get what I'm saying? I need you to tell me you get what I'm telling you" 

Daisy had never been on the receiving end of such a barrage of slurs, but there she was. What was more, whoever knocked on the door had given up, and it was most likely just her and Henry in that part of the building. Her reaction was to just stare at the man in front of her, tonguing the inside of her cheek, wishing he understood sign language for their communication to be a bit easier and speedier. 

"You feel invincible" Daisy wrote on her notepad, confirming she had gotten the message, as loud and as clear as possible. "You feel amazing, too" 

"Yeah, that's it, that's right. I really do, and you know why? You know why, hun? 'Cause kissing you... kissing you was the best thing that has happened to me in a long, long time. And because I fucking want you, and because that smile of yours makes me want to lay down and cry" Michael nearly shouted, losing a bit of his mind in the process. "God, you're beautiful. And with the kids, the way you... I'm not even making sense. I've lost it, eh? I have lost my mind. At work, of all places" 

Faced with those sentences, Daisy had to laugh; at what Henry said, at how confused he looked, and at how true it was that the worst place to lose your cool was at work. It had never happened to her in the month she'd been at the foundation, but it was a scary thought. He still looked quite handsome, she thought, all heated like that. It would be a pretty nasty lie if she said she didn't want him too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Daisy had gone to bed that day with the full knowledge of what she had done, or, better yet, of what she had written. Still, and even with that in mind, she couldn't stop the feeling that it was still up in the air, that the rest of her night wasn't exactly set in stone. Maybe he would change his mind, maybe he didn't want her after all, maybe... there were so many question markls that she started to believe them all, that she started to atribute her hesitation to an instinct, given by a higher power who knew the fates of all those down below. 

On the other hand, Michael never waivered. He might've stopped a couple of times, he might've clenched his fists here and there, but he made his way to her room, one foot in front of the other. If anything, he'd get closure, he'd understand what she wanted, what she needed, and would maybe tell her what had been stuck in his throat, the reason why he refused to go back home. Either way, he'd see her, he'd do his best to make her smile, and that would make the trip worth it. The teachers' quarters really were far from the main wing, weren't they? Shit, it was verging on exhausting once he finally found the door he was looking for, recognisable for the dangly charm on the knob, to make it easier for visually impaired children to find it if they needed their teacher during the night. 

"Hey, it's me. May I come in?" Michael asked, after knocking and peaking through the door, to guarantee she saw his mouth as he spoke. She nodded, smiling at the newcomer, and using her hand to signal he could come in. She smelled like peaches and cream, a strange combination that made him salivate. Besides, her hair was fully down, she had no makeup on, and wore the same simple dress as before, only now her legs were without stockings, and she wore no shoes. 

"I didn't think you would actually come" Daisy wrote, showing him the notepad, looking over it with a grin. 

"Why not? You asked me to, didn't you?" Michael responded, not sure why she was grinning, but feeling the corner of his lips trembling in response. "I still don't know why, though" he added, hands on his pockets, looking around the small room. It was warm, comfortable, it smelled nice, like Daisy, and he felt safe; safe as if the walls around him, as if her presence didn't let anything bad get to him, not even the bad thoughts inside his head could get through that door. 

"Sure you do" he then heard her whisper, at the very same time her hands helped him with his suit jacket, and the waistcoat, both neatly placed on the back of a chair. Michael didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say, so he simply stood there, like a deer in headlights, letting her do with him as she very well pleased. His tie was next, joining the other pieces of clothing, and only then did he react, only then did he pull her to him and kiss her, so hard her feet left the ground. 

Although she could see his lips closer than ever, Michael decided not to say anything. It was his way of leveling with her, of trying to communicate the same way she did. Daisy could whisper a couple of words, she wrote, she spoke with her hands, but even if she could do none of that, her expression said more than words ever could. Right now, she was saying she liked kissing him, that she liked feeling his body close, and that she liked that he got progressively harder, the more they kissed. Then, her eyes said that she had seen the bullet wounds on his torso, while her lips touched each one, revealing a sensitivity he didn't know scars had. And the same way he she healed the scars on his body, she gave him the initial push to heal the wounds in his mind. The touch of her hands, the wetness of her lips, everything was heavenly, everything made Michael weak at the knees. 

But not weak enough to be unable to pick Daisy up, hands on the back of her thighs, and lay her down on her own bed, covering her with his body. Since her dress was already bunched around his waist, it was easy to get rid of it, and of the his trousers too. Michael had no idea how to do anything but fuck out of necessity, he didn't know what it was like to make love to a woman because his soul begged for her, because he couldn't imagine not being around her, and because he wanted to give her what she wanted, what she was asking for. Though his body ached and throbbed in antecipation, truth be told that Michael wouldn't really mind if he felt nothing at all, provided that she felt everything. 

If anyone asked, and Michael sure did once they were done, Daisy did feel it all, from the weight of a body much bigger than hers, to his hips thrusting into her, the muscles of his back tightening with each movement. Not for once did he stop kissing her, not once did he look away from her, and not once did he waiver in his mission to see the utmost ecstasy in her eyes. Granted, she couldn't speak, she couldn't hear, but he knew, by the way she moved to meet his efforts, that she was aware of the noises he couldn't in any longer. Daisy, beautiful, perfect, selfless, kind Daisy, the one whom he felt would be the death of him, the one he loved, the one he could see the whole entirey of a future with; Daisy, the girl he'd been blessed with, the girl he'd been born to love. Daisy, the reason why his demons stopped and stared in sheer terror. 


	5. Chapter 5

"I was so scared of going there, and I told them I didn't want to. But they still made me, and it went on for... for years. So when Tommy came along, and told me I had another family, I jumped at the chance of getting out, of going away, of... of running away. I'm not saying mom and dad aren't good people, but they didn't believe me, they didn't save me. I can't forgive them for that, nor do I want to. That's why I said I was happy that you went away when you did. Before the same thing happened to you" Michael explained, head on the pillow, the scent of clean cotton and Daisy's perfume surrounding him, a mix of lillies and elderflower. To say all that, facing her of all people, was difficult, verging on torture. But her grey eyes were calming, she was following his small speech with all her attention, with one small difference: as well as reading his lips, she had asked permission to lay her hand on his throat, to feel the vibrations as he spoke. 

"I'm so sorry that happened to you. You're really brave" Daisy wrote, showing Michael the note, and ripping it from the notepad so he could take it with him when he had to leave. It was just a piece of paper, but it was her way of reminding him of those words, even when they were apart. "Calm now? Happy?" 

Michael nodded, joining his forehead to hers, kissing her nose, her cheeks, and her lips. The hand on his throat left, but before he could miss her touch too much, it came down to his chest, to feel his heart. It beat calmly, steadily, and seemed to provide enough proof that he was telling the truth. Even though it wouldn't be noticeable by someone else, Michael also felt the absence of the tension he had accumulated on his muscles, and the tingly sensation that was left behind. It made him slightly sleepy, but Michael did not want to sleep, he didn't even want to blink. 

"Do you need me to leave?" Michael asked, breathing deeply and rubbing his eyes. Daisy shook her head, but something about her expression asked a question in return: "do you want to leave?". No, he did not want to leave. Not for a century, or more. "I think I'm falling in love with you"

"Please don't" Daisy whispered back, a big smile on her face, the same one from when she first had chocolate cake. "Don't do that" 

"Why not? Why wouldn't I?" Michael replied, his voice low, kissing her lips, lazily climbing on top of her. There really was a heaven, he thought, and it was located in Daisy's arms, between her thighs, in her tongue, and in the palms of her hands. Her light fingers ghosted over his spine, and down to his backside, pulling him to her. The friction was almost like a burn, and Michael didn't have it in him to stay silent. "Shit, you feel amazing"

"Yeah?" Daisy asked, although she did know he was telling the truth, given the tensing of his muscles, the small, reflex-like motions of his hips against her, and the look in his eyes. She didn't pity him, she didn't let him into her bed because of that, but it was clear that he was desperate for intimacy, desperate to be touched with kindness, to be taken care of. Poor Henry, Daisy thought, or poor Michael, it didn't matter what he wanted his name to be; he even wimpered from time to time. 

"May I?" he finally asked, obviously on the brink of losing his mind, his disguise as a respectable, well-adjusted accountant from a rich family discarded when Daisy had welcomed him into her bedroom. Michael knew he was crying, he could feel the warm tears gather on his cheeks, but he couldn't even feel shame, couldn't be embarrassed. Daisy knew it too, but made no effort to wipe the water from their faces. As per usual, she understood what he was asking permission for, without clarification. Once again, she welcomed him into her body, allowed him full range of motion. "I'm... I'm sorry" Michael managed to groan, although he could barely breathe. One thing was for sure: he would not last another minute, let alone long enough to satisfy Daisy how she deserved. 

Instead of protesting, Daisy simply placed her hands on the sides of his face, made Michael look at her, let him cry all he wanted, and let him fill her with every bit of his seed, inbetween sobs mixed with moans. Only then did he manage to calm down and feel tired, both of them falling into an exhausted slumber, safe with each other, with nothing left to say. 

* * *

"You look lively, don't you? Why is that? Some new girl we need to know about?" Isaiah Jesus asked, sitting besides Michael in their booth. Finn Shelby was somewhere in the pub as well, but they couldn't see him. It meant that they could discuss that matter privately. "I swear, I hadn't seen you smile like that in a good while, lad" 

"If I tell you, you need to just listen, keep it to yourself" Michael replied, wishing he still had Daisy's perfume on him, or on his clothes. But no, it had been hours since he'd seen her, since he'd touched her, and all tangible signs of her had been erased. His mind was a completely different story, as he couldn't stop himself from drifting off, from reality to the dream that was being with her, inside her, around her... 

"Cross my heart, mate" the pastor's boy promised, settling into his seat, entirely devoted to hearing what his friend had to say. The subject of a mystery woman had been approached by both himself and Finn, who had noticed Michael's happiness in the last couple of weeks. They'd always known him to be quite serious, but now he cracked jokes, he chuckled, he came out to the Garrison; it was pretty obvious that whatever dark cloud was over him, was starting to dissipate. 

"I told you about Daisy, right? The girl that lived with us for a bit back... back before we met" Michael explained, trying to get to what he wanted to say in a logical manner. "I didn't see her again, but now she's working at the foundation. Isaiah, she's the most beautiful human I have ever seen. I don't know how to explain, she has these grey eyes, this smile that could end wars. I told her everything, everything about my past, about Polly. And when I'm with her, I feel brand new, I feel safe, and comfortable, you know? Never really felt that before" 

"Are you serious? You're serious, aren't you?" Isaiah asked, in absolute disbelief, after a prolongued, stunned silence. "Mate, that's... that's some serious shit" 

"I know, I know how bad I've got it" Michael chuckled. "I told her that, too"

"Told her what?"

"Told her I was falling in love with her. To which she replied I shouldn't" he said, breathing in deeply. "It's been a couple weeks since then, and I still have no idea what she meant by that. But fuck it, I think I'm done for. I'm in love with her" 

"Nothing to do, really. Love is pretty important stuff" Isaiah agreed, drinking his whisky peacefully, unaffected by such noble emotions, and quite liking his status as coveted bachelor. "And are you planning on proposing? Introduce her to Polly?"

"Maybe I'll introduce her to Polly, and then I'll see about the proposal. Daisy doesn't seem like she's exactly aching for a ring... Honestly, I don't even think she likes me that much. She sure as fuck doesn't feel for me what I feel for her" Michael painfully admitted, sighing sadly. Everything else was easy enough to talk about, but this part... this part was what kept him from fully embracing his newfound happiness with open arms. 

"Shit, mate... are you sure? Has she said it, have you asked her?" Isaiah questioned, furrowing his brow. One thing was Michael being in love, which was perfectly fine and nice; something else would be to console a mate whose love was not reciprocated. It would take a lot more alcohol than a few shots of vodka or absynthe. 

"I haven't asked, I think I'm scared of what she'll say. Should I do it?" 

"Balls to the wall, mate" Isaiah encouraged, patting Michael on the shoulder, hoping to the Lord the whole thing didn't end in tears, or worse; some disappointments couldn't be cured with neither alcohol, nor tears, nor time. 

"Balls to the wall" Michael returned, downing his drink in one go and vowing not to chicken out of that one. It was true: he had to go ahead and take the bull by the horns, to avoid living in limbo, to avoid letting his heart run away with the thought of the three kids and townhouse. "Right now?"

"Right... yeah, lad, why not!" Isaiah encouraged, but Michael didn't even hear what his best friend was saying, as he was already out of the pub, and rushing to the foundation. It could be the alcohol, it could be the encouragement, but one thing was certain: he needed to know if his heart belonged to someone who couldn't give him hers. 


	6. Chapter 6

The knock on the door was obviously not enough to get her attention, but for the fraction of a second, Michael didn't remember it. Once he did, he decided to open it, and peak inside. There Daisy was, sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, happily reading a book. She noticed him standing there, and smiled, signaling for him to move forward and sit. Michael did it, sitting beside her on the bed. 

"I know you weren't expecting me, and I'm sorry to just show up unannounced" he started, resisting the urge to pull out a cigarette and smoke it to calm his nerves. "But I was talking to my mate, and he told me I needed to come here, to talk to you" 

"What happened?" Daisy asked, tilting her head to the side, seemingly scanning his face and hands for injuries. "Hurt?"

"No, no, I'm just fine, don't worry" he calmed her down, going as far as taking her hands inbetween his. "I just wanted to tell you that I have... I have very... very strong feelings for you. And I was thinking that I needed to ask you whether... whether you feel something too, or..." Michael stuttered, hoping Daisy understood what he meant, even though he wasn't being as clear as he could have been. 

"You have feelings for me?" Daisy wrote, looking down at the notepad, and handing him the note. Michael nodded, his heart beating in his throat. Instead of providing a lenghtier answer, Daisy decided to scoot over to her companion, asking for permission before straddling his lap, facing him directly. What could be interpreted as a brash seduction was none of that at all: she simply wanted to take his hand, place it over her heart, to show him the pace of it. Right now, it was steady, although a bit quicker than would be normal. But then, she leaned forward and kissed Michael's lips. Clear as day, he could feel the beating of her heart pick up. 

"Daisy, I love you" Michael whispered, the fingers of his free hand caressing her cheek. "And it's alright if you don't love me back, we have time to figure this out" 

"My heart beats faster when I see you, and even faster when I kiss you. I don't know what being in love means, but I want to try and figure this out" Daisy wrote, showing Michael the small note. 

"You know how sweet you are?" he asked, kissing her softly. "I don't know how to tell you how much you mean to me. I really don't" Michael added, filling his chest with oxygen before leaning forward to capture her lips. 

"Stay here?" Daisy whispered, resting her head on the crook of Michael's neck, inhaling the scent of his body wash, the one she liked best. His cheeks and jaw were a bit scratchy, but she actually liked the feeling of his stubble against her softer skin. Likewise, she enjoyed taking off his uptight clothing, which was, for the both of them, the equivalent of ridding him of the demanding days, of the hard work, of everything he had to deal with when they were apart. There was nothing to hide when a man was naked in front of the woman he loved, nor did Michael want to. 

"If you want me to" he replied, carelessly throwing his jacket, waistcoat and shirt on the ground, along with his tie, and even his pocketwatch. It was absolutely not like him to do such a thing, and Daisy stared at the pile of clothes in absolutely disbelief before her back hit the matress out of the blue. From that position, she was forced to watch as her man took off the rest of his gaments, away from her reach, only to return once he had nothing on. Truth be told, Daisy herself was already wearing nothing but her nightgown, and it was considerably easier to take off. "Don't move, alright? Don't move, stay still" 

Daisy understood what he was saying, although she didn't know what he meant. Where would she be going? And why couldn't she move? There were answers, and they were simply provided by the kisses on her thighs, on her stomach, on her lower abdomen, and then... then, all she wanted to do was scream, but she couldn't, the sound didn't come. Not even gasping felt enough to convey the utter perfection of what was going on between her thighs. 

Rain started pelting on the windows around two in the morning, and Daisy woke up with a start. Michael didn't sleep, and his heart skipped a beat when she gasped, and sat up. How she had heard the rain, it was beyond him, but she had. 

"It's just the rain, just the rain" Michael repeated, pulling her into his arms, trying to calm down her breathing. "Don't be scared, it's outside"

"Sorry" Daisy gasped, trying pretty hard to steady herself. "Sorry, woke you up" 

"Not at all, I wasn't sleeping" he assured, kissing the top of her head. Honestly, the wind was kind of scary, and the rain didn't help. Even inside a pretty sturdy building, and under warm covers, there was clearly something about those weather conditions that made Daisy deeply uncomfortable. "Hey, what's wrong? Did the noise scare you? The vibration?"

"Vibration" Daisy nodded, taking his hand and letting him feel how fast her heart was going, beating relentlessly against her chest. "Awake? Why?" 

"Hm? I uh... I was thinking, I guess. And please don't say what I know you're gonna say..."

"Stop" she laughed, placing her palm on his forehead and pretending to draw out his thoughts. "Stop, Michael"

"You don't even know what I was thinking about" Michael protested, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "Could be about you, could be about how nice it feels to watch you sleep"

"Sleep now" she insisted, with the radiant smile only Daisy had. "Late" 

"It is late" he agreed, holding back a yawn. "Why does the sound of rain scare you?"

Daisy sighed, realising at that moment Michael had no intention of going to sleep, and probably wouldn't even try if she didn't answer the question. Taking her notepad, she scribbled on it for about a minute, before showing it to him. 

"I know it's been a long time, but when I was living with my first family, we had nowhere to hide from the rain. So when it rained like this, I'd get soaked, and then I'd get sick. It was pretty bad, and it hurt. I think that's why I lost my voice" Daisy wrote, shrugging when Michael deviated his eyes from the paper to her face. 

"I want you to go see a doctor about that. I'm going to find someone good, maybe even in London, to see what we can do about that" Michael replied, pretty sure Daisy would like to be able to speak in ful sentences. Her hearing was a non-issue, she could function pretty well without it, but being able to talk would be nice, especially for her work with visually impaired children and adults. 

"I've been to doctors" Daisy wrote, furrowing her brow. "We had really good ones at school, and they said there was nothing to be done"

"Let's not give up. I'd like to hear your voice" Michael admitted, laying back down and dragging Daisy with him, her head on his chest. "Wouldn't you like to talk?"

"I don't remember ever talking, and I don't think I need to... but maybe it would be an improvement" she responded on paper. "To yell at you when you don't sleep because you're thinking about your work when you should be resting" 

"Don't sass me" he protested, tickling her sides. "Let's sleep then, if you're that tired"

"Me? Wasn't me who claimed to not be able to move a couple hours ago" Daisy mocked, throwing the note at Michael's face and laughing at his shocked expression. 

"Takes two, doesn't it?" he teased, chuckling. "Alright, let's sleep, then. Tomorrow, I'll make some calls and get you a doctor" Michael said, kissing Daisy's lips and closing his eyes, still holding her close. This time, not even the noise of the storm outside could keep either of them awake, and they fell into peaceful slumber that lasted until the sun was back in the sky. 


	7. Chapter 7

As it turned out, the doctors in London were all in agreement: no matter what, Daisy Clearwater was not going to be able to speak. Surgery was not a good option, simply because the chances of it working were very slim, and there was no prior case to reference. Perhaps they knew what had caused the loss of her voice, but couldn't fix such damage, inflicted during her formative years. Now, when both Michael and Daisy had gathered all the opinions they could, there was nothing to be done but sit, sharing the perfect high tea at the overpriced Savoy. 

"That lady is staring at my dress" Daisy wrote on a loose piece of paper she had in her handbag. She was very aware that a teacher's salary was not good enough for the Savoy, but staring was certainly above the usual patrons of the place, wasn't it? As it turns out, she thought to herself, money could not buy manners. 

"I know. Probably wishes her daughter was half as beautiful as you are" Michael chuckled, seeing the lady whisper something to a younger woman beside her; both their eyes turned from Daisy's clothing to his own, and then to him. "See, now it's me they're judging"

"Judging? As if. The girl wants you to put a ring on her finger right now" Daisy added to her writing, trying not to laugh. "Are people in London always like this?"

"A mother and a daughter at the Savoy? Absolutely. There's only one reason for two women to come here for high tea, with no men with them: to find a suitable husband, who makes good money" he informed, sipping on his tea and putting the teacup down. "You want to give them a bit of a shock?"

"Depends, would the shock get us kicked out?" she enquired, stealing a glance at the pair of women, who were now saying something behind their teacups, eyes still glued to the pair of them. 

"Might do, but it will teach those two a lesson"

It was, indeed, a terrible idea to get up and kiss your companion on the lips at such a high-end establishment, but Michael Gray had learned that there were certain things you could do, if you had enough money, and your family name was known wellenough to instill fear in others. That meant that he could kiss Daisy, hence giving the inconvenient cows a eason to focus on their own food. 

"You think they've learned their lesson? I could do that again, if you want" Michael gleefully stated, smuggly going back to his seat, feeling like the king of the fucking Savoy. Nay, of London itself, maybe even Great Britain. 

"No, no, please don't, I don't want to get expelled from here" Daisy pleaded (which meant she furrowed her brow and waved the paper in front of his face), making Michael laugh. "The cake is really good. The red one, I mean"

"It's good, right? Yeah, this place is literally only worth it because of the food" he agreed, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. "And they let you smoke"

Daisy smiled, nodding her head. She liked London: it was very big and grey, there were people everywhere, and everyone seemed so busy, coming and going to and fro with worried looks on their faces. She reckoned there would be a constant noise coming from the traffic, adding to the mistique of that metropolis. Besides, the food was good, and there were shops selling everything, from hair tonic to books. 

"Are you alright? Anything wrong?" Michael asked, misinterpreting her musings with sadness. "Is it because the doctors couldn't help you?"

Daisy actually pondered quite a bit before writing. She didn't feel sad, only a bit disappointed. Deep down, she knew this would be the outcome, and she'd gotten those bad news before. At the same time, she'd come to terms with her particularities long ago, accepted them, and lived with them. There was actually no need for her to talk, given that she could make herself understood by other means. Sure, it got awkward sometimes, but didn't other people have awkward moments, especially because they talked too much? She had the advantage of being able to think twice before communicating something hurtful, or mean. 

"No, it's alright. Doesn't really matter to me. Does it matter to you?" Daisy asked, biting the inside of her cheek. It was a stupid question, given that no man ever dreamed of having a girl who couldn't speak or hear. 

"Why would it matter to me?" he asked, taken by surprise. "It matters to me that you're happy and healthy; if you're happy, that's what I care about. I can understand you, you understand me, right? What, you think I'd trade you for that bitch over there, who's been talking her husband's ears off for an hour? Poor bloke hasn't been able to interrupt that monologue once since they sat down"

"Yeah, I don't talk, so there's no danger of that. Don't worry, I won't talk your ear off" Daisy scoffed, throwing Michael the crumbled paper. Perhaps he hadn't realised it, but it was mighty insensitive to say something like that. "Every woman should be silent, shouldn't we? So that we can't annoy men. You've won the bloody lottery. Congratulations" she added on a second piece of her notebook. 

"What? Daisy, that's not what I meant" Michael quickly defended himself, truly unaware that his words could be interpreted in that manner, which he did not mean, at all. "I'm sorry, it came off wrong" 

"How did you mean it, then?" 

"I meant that they're not even having a conversation, she's the only one talking. I'd say the same thing if it was a man. I wouldn't want to be with someone with whom I couldn't have a conversation" he explained, now fully aware of how fucking stupid he'd been. "It was a really idiotic thing to say, I am truly sorry, but I didn't mean that I'm lucky you don't speak. I'm lucky that you're you. I can talk to you, I like knowing what you have to say, and I like that we can discuss things"

"Promise?" Daisy whispered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. There it was: one of those situations where someone could've used more time to think before speaking. 

"Of course I promise, Daisy! Shit, I didn't mean it like that at all, I promise, on my life. I love you, and I would feel the same even if you could speak and listen and all that shit. You understand, right? You understand that I love you, and understand you, and know you, not needing you to speak or hear. I love you. Shit, I love you so much I'm crying in the middle of the Savoy. I am so sorry for what I said"

"I shouldn't have reacted that way either..."

"Excuse me? Yes, you should" Michael assured, not even wanting to cry anymore. "That was such an idiotic thing to say, damn it"

"It was" Daisy chuckled, not as angry. She didn't hold grudges, not to mention she understood the apology was sincere. Although out of line, the comment hadn't been malicious, it had just been poorly formulated. "Hey, it's alright, don't overthinking it. Apology accepted"

"Thank you. It won't happen again, I promise" he assured, taking her hands over the table. 


	8. Chapter 8

In London, it was fine to lazily look around and kiss without thinking about it. It was a big city, with many people, all of whom more important and better known than an accountant (if that was all Michael was), and a teacher. There was a certain freedom to it, the freedom to do whatever they wanted, to go wherever they pleased, to hold hands when they felt like doing it, and to steal passionate glances in public. Needless to say, Birmingham was much smaller, everyone knew the Shelbies, Michael still owned an apartment in Small Heath, and there was no way they could step outside his door without various set of eyes on them, both friendly and menacing. They were both intelligent and young, vastly aware of the constraints of their society, and managed to stay within manageable limits, the bare minimum, as it were. 

"Would you mind staying in today? I don't feel like moving" Michael groaned, waking up to find Daisy sitting up, back against the headboard, reading a heavy book. "Daisy? You get that, love?" he added, his voice still raspy as could be, heavy with slumber. He'd seen her eyes move to his lips, and couldn't help but to smile once she put the book aside, marking the page with a delicate marker, and leaned down to kiss him. 

"Tired?" Daisy asked, basking on the warmth of Michael's body, heightened by the blankets. He was, for all intents and purposes, pretty warm, whereas her slimmer figure had a bit of a harder time getting heat. "Me too" 

"Tired, exhausted, comfortable, happy it's Sunday... all of that" Michael replied, kissing the tip of her nose, facing her with half-open lids. "I really, really was looking forward to today. And you know why?"

"Why?" was Daisy's reply, very low, but understandable .

"Because I get to sleep as much as I want, and I get to wake up to you every time" he explained, supressing a yawn. "You're beautiful. You're absolutely gorgeous, and not only that, you're incredible. I could look at you every second for the rest of my life, and I would never get bored"

"You only like me because I'm pretty" Daisy wrote, having reached for the notepad on the bedstand. "It's alright, I only like you because you're warm" 

"Liar liar, pants on fire" he chuckled, making her laugh too, the childish banter evident on his lips. "First off, I don't just like you, I love you, and you know that. Second of all, I love you because you're sweet, selfless, smart, and a million other things" 

"Ah, good" Daisy whispered, going back to writing on her notebook. "I appreciate it, but I only sleep in your bed because you're warm, sorry" she added in writing, making a sad attempt at a sad face. 

"I don't mind being used" Michael shrugged, laughing along with Daisy, who had a contagious laugh, even without letting out a single sound. "I really do, eh? You could use me whenever you like, actually" 

"Personal fireplace" Daisy whispered in response, hiding her face on his neck and chuckling with such humour the vibrations reached Michael's heart, and made it beat faster. It was interesting how the slightest thing, the smallest movement or sign, was easy to pick up, and made him fall more and more in love with that spirited, carefree and intelligent young woman, wise beyond her years, and yet as fun-loving as a child. 

"Your personal fireplace would like you to meet his mother" he informed, seeing the surprise on her face. "Not the one you know , I mean Polly, my birth mom. I uh... I told her about you. Told her I fell in love with someone, and she asked me if you'd want to meet her"

"Will she like me?" Daisy wrote, going from surprised to worried. "Does she know I can't talk to her? And have to read her lips?"

"She does, yes. I imagined you wouldn't mind me telling her" 

"I don't, not at all, I just... didn't want her to be too disapointed" she explained, biting the inside of her cheeks, pondering on the enormity of what Michael was saying. As time went on, and it had been almost half a year, Daisy had come to understand how much Polly meant to Michael, and she desired to meet her, almost more than anything else in the world. But she also knew it would be hard for a mother to face the prospect of her son loving someone who wasn't absolutely perfect. 

"Disa... Daisy, what? Are you... where in hell are you less than... disapointed?" Michael scoffed, in absolute disbelief. "You are... Daisy, why would my mother be disapointed? If anything, she'll call my bulshit, and convince you to leave me for someone who actually deserves you" 

"No, no" Daisy shook her head, tears in her eyes, matching the ones Michael had running down his cheeks. "No" 

"Fuck, don't... don't... just because you can't talk? Can't hear? You think she'd be disapointed? No, don't do that, don't fucking say that. Enough, alright? Enough with..." 

"I know that I'm not less of a person because of that, I just know people aren't used to someone like me, and I didn't want her to be surprised by it" Daisy explained, her handwriting becoming a bit messier as she wore out the paper. 

"She knows. She knows" Michael assured, holding Daisy close, but allowing her, as always to look at his mouth when he talked. "Sorry, I uh..."

"That's alright, but don't worry: I know I'm not broken or anything like that. I just know some people may think so, and I hate that look on their face" she replied, shrugging softly, with a smile made out of pity on her face. "It's sad for them, but what can you do?" 

"Send them to me, I'll make sure they'll never look at someone that way again" Michael vowed, holding Daisy close to him, and knowing very well his mother didn't need to hear or even see to read a person top to bottom, inside and out. And in doing that, she'd see Daisy for what she really was: way too good for her son, way too perfect for any man, and an angel beyond his wildest dreams. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!

"Are they well behaved? Your students?" Polly enquired, blowing gently on the spoonful of soup she held in her hand. Honestly, and strangely, Polly felt awful at the moment: a meal was a terrible idea, given that Daisy had to continuously stop eating her soup to write notes, whenever she wanted to answer a question with more than a couple of words. Michael seemed to do alright when she spoke with gestures, as long as they were slow, but Polly still had a lot to learn. It wasn't as if she cared, though: the young woman was such a positive influence on her son that Polly vowed to learn everything that could help their communication. 

"They are" Daisy cheerily said, very quietly, but clear enough for Polly to hear. "Most of them come from very poor backgrounds, or were raised at the foundation, so they're very thankful to get an education" she added, through her notepad. Although it bothered Polly that she had to stop eating to say aanything, Daisy herself seemed to be just fine. After all, it was how she communicated with Michael, and anyone with some education always stopped eating to talk. 

"Oh, of course, makes sense. And how's my boy at work?" Polly asked, making Michael blush, and swallow his soup with difficulty. "Is he a horrible boss? Does he pay you on time? You can tell me, I won't tell a soul"

"Good boss" Daisy laughed, nodding her head. "On time, always" 

"The money doesn't really depend on me, eh? Depends on my cousins. So if I'm ever late with the wages, you go complain to them" Michael clarified, wondering if there would ever be a time that he could bring Daisy around his cousins, without fear of envolving her in something she didn't ask for, or, even worse, for having her fall for Tommy. It wasn't that outlandish either, as it seemed to happen with every single woman who shared a space with Tommy Shelby. Michael knew too well that a woman like Daisy was a catch, not because she had money or a nobility title, but because she was stunning, which would make for good arm candy. For him, who'd taken the time to know her, it was criminal to think she could end up like that, that she could end up being the underapreciated wife of some idiot, when she deserved the absolute world, and all the love in it. 

"Please don't, they don't have any manners, and would try to seduce you" Polly advised, somehow reading her son's thoughts, and absolutely agreeing. "Tommy, especially" 

"He went to one of my classes once, as a visitor. Just stopped by for a minute, and asked me not to stop what I was doing on account of him. I guess he was just making sure everything was going well" Daisy wrote, before happily going back to her soup. Truth be told, she didn't think Tommy was all that; he was handsome, but his eyes lacked kindness, and he looked empty, almost like the life had left his body, and he was running on survival. 

"I still don't know why he does that" Michael dismissed, simply because it was obvious to him that no one was better at their job than Daisy. "Everytime there's a new teacher, there he is" 

"You know how much that school means to him, Michael" Polly responded. "I agree that it can be incredibly intimidating to have the owner of the whole thing watching you teach, but he's in his right" 

* * *

"What did I say to you? I told you, there was nothing to worry about: my mom loved you, as I knew she would" Michael informed, proudly taking Daisy by the hand as they walked over to his home, which was closer than the school, hence more practical for them to spend the night. 

"I like her, too" Daisy managed to say, slowly, but surely, laying her head on Michael's shoulder as they walked. He smelled nice, and she could pick up on the vibrations his voice produced, even through the fabric of his suit. "You look like her" 

"I do? Huh, never noticed that. I had a sister, you know? Her name was Anna. But she passed, so I don't really remember her" Michael said, unsure on whether he felt sad, or if he felt pity for his mother, for having lost a daughter to an ending that couldn't be undone.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I think I have siblings, too; but when I tried to find them, I couldn't" Daisy confessed, sharing the uncertainty her beloved felt, through written words. 

"You ever feel like you got a second chance? That you were given a shot at doing it right, at having a good life, and that you can't waste it?" he asked, stopping in his tracks and turning to Daisy, whose grey eyes still sparkled under the dim beams of the moon. "Because I do. And the more I try to feel guilty that I left everything I had before behind, I simply can't. Starting again saved my life, as dramatic as it sounds" 

"Same with me. I don't know where I would be if I hadn't gotten away from my family. Not here, that's for sure. Probably dead, to be honest" Daisy signed, knowing that even if Michael didn't understand everything, he would get the gist of it. 

"Yeah, I think I would've gone to jail for doing something drastic to the church. Something along the lines of arson or explosives" Michael admitted, making Daisy laugh. "Seriously though... I do feel like an ungrateful son of a bitch sometimes" 

"You did what you had to do to survive. It's what people who have been through a lot do: we survive. And no one can blames us for it, especially not ourselves" Daisy assured, as they approached Michael's door, and he rumaged his pockets for the keys, which turned out to be in Daisy's purse. The air inside was warm, cosy, and felt like one of the very few safe spaces in the world. Inside there, they could simply be who they were, without guilt, or fear. 

"That's very true, love, very true indeed" Michael agreed, pulling Daisy to him, and bending slightly to kiss her lips, his hand rising to cup her cheek. Neither one of them had turned on a single light, but the space wasn't too big, and they both knew their way around the furniture and the walls. Not that Daisy needed to have those skills though; Michael picked her right off the floor, counting on her legs around his torso to help him carry her into his bedroom, the one that had been as impersonal and bare as a convent until Daisy showed up. 

Now, with her there, with her back on the matress, the bedroom was anything but boring. Daisy filled any spaced she graced with her presence with all the colours of the rainbow, and some of her own creation. There was nothing in the whole wide world that compared to the feeling of her soft skin, or to the sweetness of her mouth, two features that rendered Michael Gray useless, even struggling to get rid of the limitless layers of clothing he had on. When his suit jacket hit the floor, there was the distinct sound of metal hitting the floor, but not even that distracted him from her, from the look of need she had in her eyes. 

"Michael, Michael..." Daisy called for him, his mouth already making its way down her stomach, the minute her stockings, garter, and undergarments were disposed of. Looking up, he surely wondered what he had to do to spend the rest of his days with her legs spread open under him, watching those eyes as the woman he adored begged for something only he was in a position to give. Fucking hell, she had this energy about her, something in the way she simply breathed that made her see-through, that said what she couldn't put into spoken words, in a manner that only Michael seemed to understand. When it came down to it, no one needed to decode her messages. 

"Yeah?" Michael asked, returning his lips to their rightful place, supporting his body weight with his forearms, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses on her neck. "You alright, should we stop?"

"I love you, too" Daisy said, signing the words for good measure. In fact, two gestures were enough, and she wanted Michael to know how to recognise them, to learn them, to know them by heart. 

"You do? For real? Shit, I love you, so damn much" Michael replied, his smile wide enough to make his cheeks hurt. But fuck it, who cared; he loved her, and she loved him, which meant that the engagement ring that fell off his pocket and was now somewhere on the floor could wait, with the promise of finding a home sooner rather than later. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

In no way shape or form did Michael Gray deserve what was happening to him. Although he wasn't a horrible person, he wasn't a saint either... he was a normal man, from what was starting to be a family with a good name, an accountant, an idiot, an insignificant part of a machine he knew almost nothing about. He wasn't of Tommy, who ran everything, made all the calls, had a mansion; Tommy was the kind of man who deserved this, who probably got this with a snap of his fingers. Granted, he could have a girl in his bed, he could even instruct said girl to straddle him, and ride him until he saw black; but he couldn't have Daisy, couldn't have her kindness, honesty, personality, beauty, and... shit, that way she moved, the way she bit her lip, or the manner in which she had taken his wrists and pinned them to the matress. No, Tommy Shelby couldn't have that, and Michael seriously doubted he'd had it with anyone: the man was incapable of love, let alone the kind of love Polly's son felt for Daisy Clearwater. 

"That feels so good, love" Michael heard his own stupid voice say, his tone more like a groan than a moan, reduced to the primal example of what a man was when overcome with the kind of pleasure he would be daydreaming about for weeks, if not months or years. "So fucking good, shit..." 

Daisy didn't feel like responding, busy as she was trying to ignore the cramps on her thighs. She wasn't exactly strong, and the position she was in asked way too much from her body than she had to give. However, it became easy to ignore how badly it hurt when she saw the look on Michael's face, and pushed the pain to the back of her mind, letting the sensation of him inside of her take centre stage. Daisy too wanted to let out a bunch of curse words, but she didn't want to waste a breath on that, she wanted to direct all her energy to the pursuit of that bright light at the end of the tunnel, the one that would make her whole body go numb and rigid, only to then let her go, over an imaginary threshold. 

The wait wasn't very long, and luckily so: Daisy's thighs were on fire, she was losing her grip on Michael's wrists, but he kept them under her weak hands, wanting her to dominate him, wanting her to take charge, to use him until she could no longer take his touch. And even if she didn't really know she was doing it, she enjoyed how gorgeous her man looked when he was deperate, when she could see her own high reflected in his eyes, and on the involuntary motions of his hips against hers. As per usual, Michael made damn sure he held back until the very last second, using up all his strength and considerable determination, to allow Daisy to be completely satisfied before he was. At that point, it wasn't just about politeness; he knew he needed to watch and feel her coming for him to be able to. 

"Love, why are you shaking? Are you alright, are you hurt?" Michael asked, skipping all ohter stages to land on complete panic. Daisy had gotten under the sheets a mere three seconds ago, but the room was warm, so it had to be his fault, it couldn't be the cold. "Fuck, did I hurt you?"

"No" Daisy shook her head, trying to get her own muscles to stop being so dramatic. Alright, maybe she shouldn't have overdone it with the heavy muscle work, but it felt too nice to pass up on. "No, I'm alright, my legs just didn't like all the moving" she clarified, writing on a loose piece of paper from her nightstand. 

"Oh. Oh, no" was Michael's answer, torn between horror and guilt. "I am so sorry, I shouldn't have let you go on for so long" 

"My idea" Daisy shrugged, sitting up and reaching for her toes, trying to stretch her muscles. "Don't worry"

"Yes, I do worry. We're not doing that again" he stated, reaching for his beloved, interrupting her littlle workout. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor?" 

"I'm sure I don't need a doctor. I just need to go to the bathroom" Daisy laughed, handing the piece of paper to Michael, and wriggling out of his hold, grabbing a spare blanket to take with her to the aforemention division, which was not adjacent to the bedroom. Wrapping herself in it, Daisy made way, leaving Michael to seriously wonder what he'd done right to deserve that angel in his life. Maybe Polly, his mom, really had special powers, and had sent her to him? Or maybe it was to make up for all the horrible things in his past? Whatever it was, it distracted him enough for him not to notice her figure, standing at the door, staring at something on the floor. 

"What's wrong? What are you..." Michael asked, scooting over in bed to be able to see what Daisy saw. At that moment, he had forgotten all about the ring in his pocket, and hadn't certainly noticed that it had fallen off in the frenzy to get rid of every and any item of clothing on his body. "Huh. I uh... Shit" he let out, reaching for the ring, not really knowing whether to try and hide it, or... 

"Pretty" Daisy said, still paralysed, her mind racing: was the ring for her, was it for another girl, was Michael seeing someone on the side, was she about to be proposed to...? Michael too didn't seem to know what to say or do, but she saw his Adam's apple moving, a look of disapointment on his face. "Not for me?"

"What? What are you talking about, of course it's for you. Who else would I buy an engagement ring for?" Michael asked, sincerely confused. "It's for you, it's got both our names on the band" 

Daisy dropped the blanket she'd taken with her, and climbed into bed, her legs still a bit shaky, although she didn't really know whether it was still the aftershock of their activities, or if it was nervousness. Under the sheets, Michael was like a furnace, as per usual, and she laid her head next to his, looking straight at him. He looked sad, mixed with a bit of anger, and Daisy couldn't for the life of her figure out why. 

"Sad?" she asked, ready to reach for the scraps of paper on the nightstand, in case she needed to make it abundantly clear everything about this scenario made her heart beat incredibly fast. 

"No, not sad. I just... I had this whole plan of taking you to the countryside, or to the beach, somewhere nice... wanted to do it right, wanted to be romantic and all that" Michael shrugged, opting for speaking, instead of signaling, simply because he had no idea how to sign what was probably the most complex sentence he would ever have to form. "Didn't want you to find the ring on the floor, like I don't care about it. I do, I really do, it must've been an accident" 

"I don't mind" Daisy said, barely believing actual tears were forming in her eyes, and falling down her face. "I don't mind, at all. This is perfect. This is the most romantic place in the world" she assured, writing the words as neatly and as quickly as she could. 

"Are you sure? Should I ask you, right now?" Michael enquired, his face going from tense, to absolutely beaming. He could kind of see what Daisy was talking about: that bed was their safe space, the one where nothing was allowed to come in, except for the two of them and their love. Besides, it was the one place in the whole world where bad memories lost its value, and became insignificant in the face of a love greater than the things they'd done to survive. And when she nodded, everything fell into place: their love, their present, their future, and the life they would build together. "Daisy Clearwater, I love you. And I promise to love you, each second of each day, for the rest of my life, and even after that. I promise to keep you as safe and as warm as we are now, and to tell you every day how thankful I am for having you by my side. So uh... will you do me the absolute honour of becoming my wife?"

Even if she could, Daisy wouldn't have made a single sound, because one thing was to be proposed to, and the other was to be proposed to like that, in her favourite place in the whole world, by a man she loved so much it made her cry. By then, Michael too was crying, his tears matching hers, falling on the pillow, and even more so when Daisy nodded, kissing his lips, his cheeks, and everywhere else she could reach. In her happiness, she completely forgot there was a ring in it as well, the same one Michael was sliding onto her finger while she showered him with kisses. It was absolutely stunning, of course it was, its sparkle displayed in the moonlight. 

"I love you so much" Michael whispered, trying to wipe his cheeks, holding Daisy as close as possible.

"I love you, too. Thank you" she replied, snuggling into his chest, as they both settled into the reality of a way brighter future. 


	11. Chapter 11

Polly insisted on publishing an article in the newspaper. Neither Michael nor Daisy had the slightest intention of doing it, of announcing their engagement on the media, but the proud mother could not wait to tell the world that her only surviving child would be walking down the aisle. Daisy also spoke to her adoptive mother, and hoped she would understand it if Michael wasn't ready to have a consistent relationship with her. 

"It's between me and him, alright? Don't you worry. I'm so happy for the both of you... my god, I couldn't be any happier. Have you set a date? Will there be an engagement party?" Rosemary asked, setting a mug of tea in front of Daisy. 

"No, not yet. And I think I would like a party, but I'm not sure when. Mom, I don't know what's going to happen... but I do know that I am eternally thankful for everything you have done for me. And I know Micha... I mean, Henry... I know he is, too. But some things happened, things I'm not at liberty to discuss, and... well, he needed to go" Daisy signed, knowing Rosemary would understand, as she had studied sign language at the same time Daisy did, so that they could communicate. 

"I know, sweetheart, it's alright. Like I said, it's between him and me. You have nothing to worry about, nothing to apologise for. As for whatever it was we did for you... knowing you're happy is all the thanks I could ever need. Seeing you now... I can't forget the way you looked when I first saw you. You've changed completely, but your eyes are still the same. I could look at you forever, sweetheart. I really could" Rosemary said, her vouce trembling under the weight of the tears that insisted on falling down her cheeks. "I sometimes lay awake at night, thinking about you. I was scared that you would fall in love with some scumbag who would treat you like dirt... oh, but it's Henry... my Henry" 

"Please don't cry" Daisy urged, reaching for her mom's hand, and disobeying her own request, big drops of water landing on the table. "Time went by too fast" 

"It really did. That's the thing: it always does, and when you look around and see what your children grew up to do, and to be... I just hope Anthony turns out as good as you and Henry did" Rosemary wished, taking a deep breath. Her youngest was a good boy, but wasn't doing that well in school, and it worried her to think of what he would do when time came to pick a line of work. 

"Of course he will! Is he at school?"

"He is. Oh, but he hates it... he really does" Rosemary sighed, clearly at wits end with the situation. "Maybe he would do better if he could read and write better, but he does so poorly at it..."

"Oh. He does? I wonder if... I don't know whether I'm being out of line... but some kids have a disorder, called dyslexia. It's been discovered and presented very recently, and it's referred to as word-blindness. He might have it" Daisy suggested, truly hoping it wasn't the case. She'd read about it, but it was a new discovery: there was no treatment, or therapy as of yet. So, even if they knew it was Anthony's case, there wasn't much to be done. 

"Wouldn't surprise me. He's very bright, but there is something in his head that doesn't connect. At least that's what he tells me. Since his dad died, it's difficult to get to him. I doubt even Henry could. But he has to explain why he gets bad grades in English, right? And History, and all those subjects where you have to write" Rosemary explained, remembering the happier times, when her eldest son would help her youngest with homework, before the two of them went outside to play football, or rugby. If only there was a way to turn back time, and go back to looking out the window at her boys... 

"Do you want me to try and do some more research about learning difficulties? There are some kids at the Shelby school who have conditions of that sort, and they're making progress" Daisy signed, fully ready to take Anthony to school with her, to give him a better shot at having a good future. 

* * *

Michael had taken it upon himself to tell his extended family about his engagement. He wasn't sure if they suspected it was coming, and it didn't really matter, as he wasn't seeking approval, and certainly wasn't trying to bring Daisy into business with the Shelbies. But he did work with them, and for them, so his cousins had a right to know. More than that, he knew his own mother would burst into Shelby manor and announce to the world that her son was engaged to be married, and Michael truly didn't want to leave it to her to relay the message, and answer the inevitable questions. 

"So, you've known her for some time. Does that mean she's not after money?" Tommy promptly asked, receiving an offended look from the mother of the groom, who did not stand anyone bad-mouthing the saint that was Daisy Clearwater.

"Right, because you pay me in nuggets of Welsh gold, eh?" Michael promptly replied, his voice calm, but full of sarcasm. 

"If she's going to be a part of this family, we at least need to know we can trust her" Tommy reasoned, already feeling the hammering sensation of an incoming migraine. "I'm not saying getting her in the business, but we need to make sure she doesn't talk too much" 

"Tommy. The girl can't talk. Can't hear, either. She manages to communicate, and that's about it" Polly interjected, smoking a cigarette with all the patience in the world, which wouldn't last forever. It never did, let alone when it came to the people she needed to protect. 

"If she can't fucking speak, how does she teach at my school?" Tommy asked, turning to Polly with a confused expression. 

"The same way the blind kids learn to read. Honestly, Tommy, it's none of your business, she does her job well, and won't betray your precious secrets, 'cause she wants nothing to do with you" Polly informed, taking her glass and preparing to leave the room, taking Michael with her. As for the groom, he was entirely speechless, amazed at how fiercely his mother was protecting Daisy. Needless to say, if he spoke to Tommy like that, his cousin would end his shit, and probably fire him from his cosy job as head of accounting. 

"Tom, come on" Arthur finally chimed in, feeling bad for poor Polly. "If Pol says the girl is fine, then she's fine, eh? You know that if there were any sharks in our waters, she'd let us know"

Tommy seemed to think about it, and ended up going with Arthur's opinion, for once. Polly did have her sixth sense, and there was absolutely no way she would let Michael marry some girl who she wasn't sure about. The only logical conclusion was that this wedding would have the whole family's blessing, meaning they could all move on to more important matters. However, and against his own will, a specific thought started to grow in his mind: a girl who couldn't speak and couldn't hear, a girl he'd seen in passing and whose beauty he'd noticed... a very hot commodity, an asset unlike any other, and the perfect match for a poor man whose wife had ran away...

"Fine. That's fine. Michael, set the fucking wedding date. And Pol... you better be right" Tommy conceded, waving his hand, causing his cigar to expel a good amount of ash onto the carpet below their feet. 

"When was I ever wrong?" Polly threw at him, before taking her son's wrist and going out the door. The way she saw it, Tommy's opinion mattered very little, but Michael had wanted to tell his cousins, so she had honoured his wishes. Now that theyd gotten what they needed, the two of them would go straight to church, and demand to see Jeremiah Jesus, to set the earliest date possible. 

"Mom, shouldn't Daisy be with us to set the date?" Michael gathered the courage to ask, only when they were already at the door. 

"Absolutely not, we'll take care of it, and it'll be done" 

"Why do you want us to get married in such a rush? Am I going to die, or something?" the future groom joked, despite sincerely hoping he hadn't been write without knowing it. 

"No, you aren't going to die" Polly replied, heading to the sacristy, where the preacher usually stayed between services. "I'm trying to ensure that you are the one who marries that sweet girl"

"What do you mean? Daisy agreed to marry me, I..."

"I'm not saying that she'll up and leave you... I'm saying that I know you have competition... competition that won't be easily beat" Polly turned to her son, so that he could see how serious she was. The look of nervousness on Michael's face was almost funny, but this was no laughing matter: it was a real threat to their happiness, and Polly absolutely refused to even entertain the idea. 

"Competition? What do you mean, competition? Daisy's my girl, everyone knows that, who on earth would..." Michael stuttered, trying to come up with the answer himself, and coming up empty. As per usual, his mom was a step ahead of not only himself, but of everyone else. "No, I refuse to believe it. Besides, Daisy is completely honest with me, and wouldn't commit to me if she was in love with someone else" 

"And I wouldn't let you marry her if she was. Didn't you see the way Tommy's eyes sparkled when i said Daisy couldn't hear, and couldn't talk? You and I see her for how kind and compassionate she is... Tommy saw harmless arm candy. The kind of arm candy that would make an MP look not only charitable, but also relatable" Polly explained, hating Lizzie Stark with all her strength for running away exactly when Michael had found the one girl good enough for him. 

"You're joking" Michael scoffed, thinking it was all a prank, waiting for his mom to burst into laughter at any moment. But Polly didn't, and Michael understood what she meant: Tommy wanted Daisy for his damn self. "So, what do we do?"

"We force Jeremiah to marry the two of you, tomorrow at the latest" 


	12. Chapter 12

Somewhere, somehow, things had taken a right turn. Michael knew it, and for that, he truly was thankful. The stepping on toes had been sidelined, and he was even doing a good job of putting it on the very back of his mind. Of course, it was made much easier by the sight of Daisy Clearwater, sleeping by his side, the moonlight shining over her body. A man really couldn't ask for much more, could he? She was perfect, inside and out, and she was going to be his, officially: his wife, his partner, maybe the mother of his children. And sure, maybe Michael himself wasn't the best catch in Birmingham, maybe he didn't have all the money Tommy Shelby did, or his cheekbones; but there had to be something about him that Daisy liked. There had to be a reason for her to accept his proposal, to wear the engagement ring he'd slipped onto her finger, to make love to him every single night, to fall asleep in his bed as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

"Sleep" Michael heard Daisy groaning, snapping him out of his overthinking. To make her demand clearer, she blindly reached out her hand, trying to find his eyelids and make him close his eyes. Needless to say, she'd failed, and ended up poking his cheek instead. "Sleep, please"

"What makes you think I wasn't sleeping? Maybe you woke me up. Maybe it was you who wasn't sleeping" Michael joked, taking her hands and pulling her body on top of his, her head comfortably on his chest. "Go to sleep, again" 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing is wrong. It was just something my mom said, about... shit, might as well tell you, right? She said Tommy... my cousin, Tommy... that he uh... that he wants you" Michael let out, as quickly as he could. Saying it out loud, ike that, made him realize how paranoid he and Polly looked, but how unfair would it be for Daisy if the two of them had an inkling that concerned her, but kept her in the dark? 

"Excuse me, what are you even talking about? I don't even know the man, I've seen him one time, and he didn't even say good morning!" Daisy signed furiously, losing her patience. "Michael, you cannot be serious, you can't seriously think I would want anything to do with your cousin!"

"I don't, I don't. I really don't. Of course I don't" Michael quickly clarified, matching Daisy's sitting position. " No, I don't think... my mom doesn't, either. We know you don't know him, but he's got a bad habit of... long story short, he seduces every member of your gender. And I don't want him to make you feel uncomfortable, or..." 

"I don't think that's going to happen... he's got plenty of girls to go chase, and I fully intend on staying in my lane. Besides, we'll be married next weekend" Daisy signed, a bit slower, a bit more calmly. "Was that why you weren't sleeping? Thinking I would... I don't know... run away with him, leave you for your cousin?"

"Honestly? The thought did cross my mind. Several times. But I don't want to do that to you, I know I have no reason to doubt you, and doing it is insulting" Michael sighed, bringing Daisy with him when he went back to lying down. "I know how lucky I am, that's all"

"Well, I also know how lucky I am. And let me tell you: Tommy Shelby isn't as handsome as my colleagues say he is. He looks perpetually exhausted, and I'm pretty sure he takes some sort of narcotic on a regular basis" Daisy informed. It was a pity, because the man was obviously intelligent and capable; but something had broken him, and it was painful to watch. 

"Wouldn't surprise me in the least. And with Lizzie running off like that... my god, it's a tragedy. I don't know how he's still alive. I don't know what I'd do if you... I don't know, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't survive. Which is sad to admit" Michael confessed, turning to face his fiancée, and those prodigious grey-coloured eyes. "I know I should be sleeping, and you should too; what I don't understand is how come my brain seems to work better at night" 

"Not just yours, happens to everyone" Daisy responded, reaching for his hair and smoothing it softly. "But I'll tell you this: I am making a commitment to you, and to no one else. I don't care if the Prince of Wales decides to start courting me: you are the one I want, and the one I was born to be with. There are no two ways about it, alright? So please... don't worry. I'll still be here in the morning, and the morning after that, and every morning after that one, too" 


	13. Chapter 13

The wedding bands weren't really custom or anything, and Michael made a point of apologising to Daisy for it. Of course she didn't care one bit, nor did she care about the simplicity of the ceremony. Polly was there, as a witness, and Isaiah too, supporting his friend and making sure no one came intruding into the small event, while his father officiated. The bride wore a beautiful blusher-pink dress, and carried a modest bouquet of lavender and forget-me-nots, her favourite flowers. Her groom, Michael, wore his best suit, and didn't have eyes for anything apart from how beautiful his new wife looked. Polly had made a point of walking her daughter-in-law down the aisle, to somehow make up for the absence of any part of Daisy's family, either biological or adoptive. As for the words said, the vows exchanged, and the promises made, they couldn't have been more traditional: Jeremiah made a point of keeping everything under twenty minutes. It wasn't like they were under any kind of time pressure, but it had been a request of Daisy's to keep the day as small and simple as could be, and Michael did agree. None of them wanted to publicise their relationship, which a big affair would've done. With many guests, everyone always attracted attention, someone talked, and it would be in the papers before they could even do something about it. 

"Thank you, so much. The day was perfect" Daisy wrote on a paper, which she handed to Polly, after they'd had tea with the preacher and his son, to celebrate the wedding. 

"Are you sure you don't want to do a bigger party?" Polly asked, wondering if her son Michael would ever blink again; his eyes were tranfixed by Daisy, accompanied her hands when she talked in sign language, smiled when she smiled, and even blinked when she blinked. The two of them were the poster couple for young love, and Polly somehow wished she'd had what they did when she was younger, or even now. That kind of love, that kind of connection... it was so beautiful, and she didn't wish anything else for her son. 

"No, no, I'm alright. I mean, if Michael wants one, I would absolutely..." Daisy signed, but Michael didn't let her finish, taking her hands into his and placing a sweet kiss on her knuckles. 

"I don't want a party. I just want to be married to you" Michael assured, past the point of caring if his mother was present when he decided to kiss his wife, or take her hands, or simply stare at her. "Just want a family, I'm not trying to get rich, or take over the family business, or... just want to wake up next to you" 

"That's what I want, too" Daisy signed, kissing him on the cheek. "I think we can go ahead and do that, now" 

Polly took that moment to go ahead and take the teacups and biscuit platters onto the kitchen, to give the kids some privacy. But neither one of them stayed put for so long, rushing to help her clean up everything. However, their peace was disturbed by the ringing of the bell, signaling that someone was at the door, and it seemed quite urgent. Michael took it upon himself to go and see who it was, not expecting what he saw once he opened the door.

"Are you Henry?" an uncertain voice croaked, a voice that came from what could very well be a teenager, or simply a kid who looked older. He had brown hair and the remnants of a sunburn on his plump cheeks. His clothes were simple, but good, and he even wore a hat. Michael didn't know how to react to being called by his old name, and his strange silence attracted Daisy to the door, her eyes widening at the sight of the youth. She hadn't seen that boy in years, but he hadn't changed that much, he was just taller, and maybe a bit wider, too. But it had to be him: Anthony, Rosemary's younger son. 

"Anthony?" Michael asked, after losing his ability to speak for a very long minute. "You're..."

"I'm Anthony. And that's Daisy" Anthony himself replied, looking a lot less uncomfortable than Michael and Daisy were. In good honesty, she had never been very close with the boy, but Michael... Michael had been. And Michael knew the kid had every right to feel abandoned. And seeing him there, like that, on his wedding day... it really felt unreal, like the worst possible way of getting a reality check. "I don't remember you being so pretty" 

"Oh, thank you. I only remember seeing you this one time when you were very little" Daisy replied, breathing as calmly as she could, and placing a reassuring hand on the small of Michael's back. She could almost hear his heart beating, not knowing what to do, or what to say.

"I don't remember you at all. But I remember Henry" Anthony shot, point blank. The way he communicated was borderline scary: he was clearly very self-righteous, and had his ideas very well settled in his head. "And I want some questions answered. My mom won't tell me why you left, but I want to know. And I refuse to leave here before you tell me why you did it" 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for Michael talking about his past (you know what I mean if you've watched the show)

Anthony sat on the couch with a look of impatience on his face. He even pulled a paper from a pocket concealed on the inside of his jacket, and twirled it around his fingers, waiting for someone else to give him permission to say something. Daisy and Michael were sitting across from him, neither of them comfortable enough to say anything, but completely uncomfortable with being silent. Polly decided not to be a part of the conversation, and had retreated into her bedroom, giving the younger ones time to speak about their business. 

"You said you had questions. And I have some explaining to do. So, you go first" Michael said, his heart beating faster and faster. Out of instinct, looking for some comfort, he grabbed Daisy's hand, intertwining their fingers. Daisy herself kept busy by nibbling on the inside of her bottom lip, happily supporting her husband in what she knew was the reckoning he feared the most. 

"You uh... you left. You left me. And I want to know why. I'm sixteen now, I'm old enough to hear whatever it is you have to say" Anthony responded, quick and concise. "My mom misses you, and she doesn't understand what the hell happened. But I want to" 

"Anthony, my reasons are... it's more complicated than..." Michael started, but Anthony was having none of it, and started shaking his head, a sarcastic smirk on his face. "Do you really want to know what it is that I escaped? Do you really want to know what your mother and father allowed to happen to me?" 

"They would never..." the kid spat, but it was Michael's turn to interrupt him, raising his hand with enough authority to shut a teenager up. 

"I was adopted from the church. You remember the church, don't you? Well, they adopted me from there. And the priest made them take me back, regularly, to help me cope with being taken from my birth mom. In actuality, he made them take me back so that he could... so that he could keep abusing me. I want you to understand that, and I want it to be as clear as possible: your parents took me to that church, every week, and allowed that man to abuse me. I told them I didn't want to go, I told them what happened, and they never believed me. They never allowed me to get out. So, you can imagine that when I found a way out... I took it. Especially because I knew he didn't do the same to you. I knew you'd be fine, because you always stayed at school instead of going to church" Michael explained, almost enjoying the shock on the kid's face, as cruel as it was. But honestly, the kid believed his brother had abandoned him for selfish reasons, when nothing was further from the truth. And as much as it hurt to be forced to relive all those horrible things, Anthony needed to know, he needed to be made aware of what had happened.

"Are you... I uh... You... Shit" Anthony responded, losing the smirk as he heard his adoptive brother's story, and pursing his lips. Daisy could feel the pressure of Michael's hand on hers, and although her fingers were struggling, she didn't care: she knew she was his tether to reality, and to his present. In short, she kept him from slipping back into his past of horror and pain. 

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right. It's all true. And I really, really... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you behind without an explanation. I know I should've explained. But I didn't want to talk about it, I didn't want anyone to know. And those who did, like my cousin Tommy, or my birth mom, or Daisy... they know how much it destroyed me, and how far I would go to avoid even thinking about it" Michael sighed, hoping that Anthony understood, hoping that he could maybe forgive; if not now, maybe some day. 

"I don't know what to say. I really don't know what to say. I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to come here and attack you. I shouldn't have demanded answers. I'm sorry, too" Anthony added, taking a deep breath, his growing brain trying to wrap around this new development. "Thank you for answering my question" 

"That's alright, you deserved an explanation" Michael replied, smiling weakly. "If you can forgive me for running away, I'd like to have my brother back" 

"Me too. Me too. I missed you" Anthony admitted, blushing quite a lot, looking way younger than sixteen, smiling widely, losing the wall of suspicion he'd arrived with. "I miss playing football with you, and rugby, too. And my mom said that Daisy would help me with my reading and my writing, so I could be around a bit more" 

"That would be great" Daisy wrote on a paper, knowing that Anthony most likely couldn't understand sign language or read her lips. "I think we'll be able to do good work together" 

* * *

Michael was simply silent, on his back, looking at the ceiling. Daisy was still in the bathroom, and he could hear the water running. That had probably been the weirdest of all wedding days in history, but one thing was for sure: he'd married Daisy, and got his brother back. The boy had been pretty upset, but the record had been set straight. Nevertheless, remembering all the things he'd experienced, and having to say them out loud, knowing it would hrut and shock a young kid... that had been horrible. And Michael knew very damn well he should focus on the positive, and fight those demons that tried to drag him into reliving the trauma, instead of letting him enjoy all the good around him. 

"Love, will you be long?" Michael heard his own voice call out, without giving it a second thought. 

"Hm? No, I'm done" Daisy replied, opening the door and coming out, wearing one of her simple nightgowns, the white one with tiny pink flowers, that reached her knees. That was enough for Michael to focus on her, to focus on her kind eyes. "Sorry"

"Are you coming to bed now?" he asked, knowing very damn well he was being a spoiled brat, but needing to feel his wife's skin under his palms, to feel her breathing, to tell her how much he loved her. But that was when the overwhelming guilt came over him; the fear that Daisy would think he was using him as a crutch, the fear of her being with him purely out of pity. 

"Are you alright? You look like you're about to cry, are you ok?" Daisy signed, knowing Michael well enough to read his expression like he was an open book. Of course, she also knew something would be happening, given that talking about his trauma had always triggered Michael, and more often than not, made him vulnerable. "Because of Anthony?"

"I'm a bit... ugh, I hate this, but talking about it always makes me... I don't know what to call it, but I start to think about those things, and then I start to question everything. I really don't know how to tell you what it feels like, but I want you to know that I love you, and I don't want to use you to make me feel better" Michael gasped, not knowing very well when he'd started crying. As per usual, as well, he couldn't express himself properly, couldn't put his thoughts into words. 

"I never felt like you're using me. I know you love me, and I love you, too. And I know what you've been through, and I want to help you, where I can, just like you help me feel better when I'm feeling down. Sure, it's not the same thing, you've been through horrible things. But if having me by your side helps you look at things differently, that's great. Really, my love, don't you cry. Don't cry, I promise that everything will be alright" Daisy signed, and Michael actually managed to understand her through teary eyes. 

"I love you so much. You're an angel. I'm sorry for crying on our wedding night" Michael said, as Daisy snuggled against him, looking him right in the eyes. "I really am sorry" 

"That's alright, don't be sorry. We'll get through this, alright? And with that doctor we found, you'll be able to talk and hopefully find ways to deal with everything" Daisy responded, kissing her husband on the lips, and running her fingers over his cheeks to get rid of the tears. "You're not using me, I don't feel like that at all. I'm your wife, and I'm happy that me being here makes you feel better. You do that for me, too" 


	15. Epilogue

Michael looked outside his office, the light coming from the sun and hitting his face, warming his skin. The day was almost over for him, and he couldn't wait for that moment to come, so that he could go home, see his family, kiss his wife, check on her. His brother Anthony would probably be there too, pining over whatever dinner was in the oven. Anthony was now eighteen, a fully grown man, employed in a factory as foreman. Daisy was still teaching, but she would have gone home already, probably right after lunch, to put her feet up, and rest like she deserved. Her iron levels had dipped a little last time she went to the doctor, and it was scary enough to make the doctors consider putting her on bed rest. As it turned out, it hadn't been necessary, but one could never be too careful. 

The second the clock marked seven p.m, Michael got up, grabbed his briefcase, and hurried home, the front door key already in his hand two blocks away. The house was pretty nice, and close to Polly's home as well. His mom begged them to move closer to her, and it came in pretty handy for them too, whenever they needed some time alone, to go to dinner, or just to have a moment to themselves. Needless to say, the moment children had entered the equation, Polly had become the most perfect and dedicated mother-in-law, pratically from the moment Daisy had gotten pregnant. 

"Hi, my love, how are you? How are you feeling?" Michael asked, beaming at the sight of his wife, standing over the cooker, with their small daughter grabbing onto her leg, and only letting go when she saw her dad, her small arms extended up to him. "Hi, princess! Have you been taking care of mommy?" 

"Hi. We've been good, Hope drew some pictures" Daisy signed, kissing her husband, and allowing him to place a hand on her belly, feeling the new life they'd created kicking up a storm inside her. Hope had been a much quieter baby in the womb, which led their friends and families to believe the new baby would be a boy, and an aspiring rugby player, or a football star. 

"Oh wow, that's pretty special" Michael smiled, picking up his little girl and kissing her chubby cheeks. She'd taken after him in almost everything, but her eyes had acquired a familiar shade of grey only comparable to her mother's irises. "You'll have to show me everything after we eat, alright?" 

"Daddy, the baby!" Hope shouted, pointing at her mom's belly with a big smile. "Baby here?" 

"Not yet, sweetheart, I'm keeping the baby safe in here" Daisy explained, signing everything slowly, so that the little one decoded what she meant. Hope was very apt at sign language, despite only being one and a half, and understood what her mother told her, most of the times. "I feel fine, I took the medication, and the baby has been moving a bunch, which is a good sign" 

"Sure is, but have you gotten any rest? Is Anthony around? Did he help you with the food?" Michael asked, looking around for his kid brother, who was nowhere to be seen. "Please, go sit down, I'll bring the food to you" he insisted, using his spare arm to wrap around his wife's waist. 

"It's almost done, and I've been sitting down enough. I promise I'm alright, you know I wouldn't do anything that could harm the baby" Daisy assured, laying her head on his shoulder, breathing a happy little sigh. "Anthony is out... I suspect he's met someone... someone who has a preference for rose-scented perfume"

"Jesus Christ, he's a kid" Michael joked, feeling very old at that moment. "Just a kids, he's not old enough to go around dating" 

"Love, he's eighteen. He's well in the age of dating. I was nineteen when you married me, remember that? Barely twenty when Hope here arrived" Daisy signed, reminding her husband that they too had been as young as Anthony, and had made a lifelong commitment too. "Besides, I think I know who it is, and I wholeheartdly approve, and so does your mom" 

"Who is it?" 

"The baker's daughter, Beatrice. She's really pretty, and kind too. The bakery always smells like roses when she's helping out her dad, and Anthony has gone there for bread twice a day lately" Daisy informed, kisssing her daughter in the forehead. 

"Damn, you're a real good sleuth, eh? Let's open a detective agency" Michael chuckled, walking over to the dinner table, and setting Hope on her high chair. "I think you're right, he's had this stupid smirk on his face for a while now. It's gross, but what can I do? I probably look like that when I look at you" 

"Yeah? I wonder why" Daisy smiled, allowing Michael to push her softly against the kitchen counter, his mouth on hers, his palms on her neck. "I missed you, today" 

"I missed you, love. Shit, I was counting down the seconds to see you and Hope. I know you're safe and that nothing will happen to either of you, but I still... still wish I could be here every day, watching the baby painting and helping you with the food" 

"That would be nice... but don't feel too bad, because I teach all morning, so I'm not home that much. Your mom is so good with the little one, Hope loves her" 


End file.
